Estrangement
by AA-Tenks
Summary: Two-shotter taking place sometime during Season 10. Weeks after their imminent split, Callie continues to wrestle with her own thoughts and emotions while encountering the source of them all, Arizona. Mostly smut.
1. Chapter 1

Betrayal had never led to such indiscretion in her previous endeavors. She was unaware of her poor choices, and it had never struck her as something so outrageous. Only in retrospect had she ever thought otherwise. When she forgave George, she'd been making a poor choice. He even told her so, that night in the pouring rain. She'd stared off in the distance, indignant on her choice and demeanor, indignant in every manner possible in order to keep herself standing.

It was only then that she'd failed to realize that forgiveness was outrageous.

But she had. At some point. Callie was forgiving, Callie gave second chances.

But three? Four? Maybe she could. She could if it meant being with Arizona forever.

But she couldn't when she'd found out.

Because forgiveness was fucking outrageous.

Callie scampered the halls in a bout of rage, feeling the blood rush to her head. She'd often felt incessant rage - ever since their divorce. She'd decided that it wasn't worth it. It wasn't worth it, she decided, as Arizona continued to plead with her, telling her that she didn't know what she was thinking. Their marriage had at once become a ring pinned to a shirt - an inanimate object that managed to destroy everything.

Callie abruptly halted in the middle of the hall, lost in a shroud of her own thoughts, staring down at her left hand. She traced her knuckles, then lightly traced over her ring finger - she noted the absence of the ring and frowned before continuing down the hall.

They'd done surgeries through the weeks. Bridled by past circumstances, Callie held her head up high and ignored any informal sentiments that she could possibly share with her once blonde lover. Though Arizona eyed her so intently, she dismissed it and concentrated the body before her. They'd discuss Sofia's arrangements and she'd be off in a matter of seconds. There was to be no small talk. There should be nothing that lingered in-between them, not any form of adoration.

She didn't want to see the sorrow in those blue eyes. Though Sofia would innocently question their estrangement, she'd brush it off, though still referring to Arizona as "Momma". Nothing should matter.

She tried dating, too. It took her long enough and she had finally managed to stop dreaming of her dead best friend and her unfaithful wife. The most painful dreams, however, were not the fights that she'd had with Arizona. No, the nightmares were the pleasant times. The happy times. The Arizona before the plane crash. The Arizona that had not resented her. The Arizona that had not betrayed her.

The Arizona that did not have post-traumatic stress disorder.

She scoffed and walked into the Attendings' Lounge, only to be met with a number of people. Bailey watched her expression for a moment and opened her mouth to say something, but Callie quickly turned around and left.

No, she'd have to go to her sanctuary of solace - the supply room. The quiet, dingy supply room that was often vacant and free. The place where she could relax and calm her nerves and properly prepare herself before an 8-hour surgery with her ex-wife.

She remembered the day that Karev told her that Arizona had PTSD. That was her fourth date with that cute scrub nurse from Neurology. She'd heard that Arizona was seeing a counselor. Callie was baffled. She had missed something. Among all of her support and love and rage and persistence, she'd missed something important.

And for a moment, she felt a twinge of guilt. And then anger swelled within her. Why should she have to feel guilty? For not noticing? She should have told her, why didn't she tell her?

_"Because she didn't know,"_ he'd said.

_"She didn't even know it herself, Callie."_

How could she not know? How could she block her off?

Callie decidedly told herself that they would no longer have any kind of intimacy, any sort of familiarity. It hadn't worked for so long, because they had a child together. They would always be tied together.

Callie's dates had failed.

When she saw that blonde hair whisk by or those blue eyes catch her own, she'd feel her heart pump wildly. She didn't want it, none of it.

Everything she felt for her drove her wild. When she looked at her, she felt fear, concern, happiness, love, lust, anger, sadness, rage. Sometimes, a specific feeling would be heightened. And she didn't know what to do with those feelings.

She opened the door to the supply closet and slammed it behind her, knowing that Bailey would be searching for her soon enough. She didn't need another talk today. She was doing fine.

But then she saw her ex-wife with her pants off, and her two hands placed on her stump - perhaps in the process of massaging it and then she felt her heart begin to race again.

"Callie?" she asked.

"Does it hurt?" Callie asked her, shifting her eyes away from her.

"A little… Uh.. wh-what are you doing here?"

"I come here, sometimes."

"Why?"

"That's none of your business," Callie replied. She leaned against the door and stared up at the ceiling.

"Uh."

"Shut up, Arizona," Callie growled.

She knew she was being unfair. After all, she was the one that had come into the room, only to find her sitting on an unopened box of medical supplies with her pants off and her hands on her thigh.

"Can you… leave?" Arizona asked, meekly.

"No."

"Callie."

"Shut up."

"Callie!"

Callie walked towards her and looked her in the eyes.

"Stop talking. This is my place. You shouldn't be here. Do that somewhere else," she told her.

"Callie, you're upset and being irrati-"

"You don't get to tell me how I feel!" she claimed.

"So-sorry.." Arizona murmured, shifting her gaze to the floor.

Callie was being irrational and she knew it. She knew her emotions sent her haywire, especially when she was being fueled by them. All she wanted to do was relax and calm down before having to face her ex-wife, but here she was - sitting in front of her, meekly staring at the floor, awkward and self-conscious.

The Arizona that had been her wife wouldn't have let her do that. That Arizona would have calmed her down, or yell at her, or talk her to reasoning. That Arizona wouldn't let her shut her up on account of her own anger.

"I'll go," Arizona told her, looking back up at Callie.

Callie had caught her gaze so suddenly and felt her heart race - she didn't know what to do with these emotions. What could calm her down before 8-hours with this woman?

She grabbed her scrub shirt and pulled her forward, roughly capturing her lips in a bout of lustful rage.


	2. Chapter 2

"Callie," I heard her say, in between ragged breaths. I'm not sure I heard much of anything, aside from her heavy breathing that seemed to be mixed with my own. I mostly heard my own heart beating loudly in my ears - I felt it thump hard against my chest. I thought it might explode. I felt the blood rush to my head again, and I felt something heat my core at her calling out my name.

I wanted to tell her to shut up again - but I liked the sound of my name as it left her lips. I loved her hitched breathing because I knew it was all because of me. I watched her for a moment - I watched her as she tried to catch her breath. She seemed to be at once bewildered and aroused, and I noted the dark blue hue of her eyes, a clear indication of want. She closed her beautiful eyes and took a deep breath, perhaps an attempt to calm herself to rationality, and then I watched as those same eyes fluttered open. She seemed to be determined to say something so I kissed her again, harder this time - and she tried to stop it - only because she wanted to say something to me, but I pushed her back against the wall and she slumped back, gripping my shoulders harshly.

She wanted more, I knew that. I knew when Arizona wanted more of me, that much hasn't changed.

She wasn't protesting and I knew it because I felt her lips part to allow my tongue entry into her hot mouth. It wasn't languid or relaxing - neither was it passionate in the sense of wanting to feel each other, it was just lust. She slipped her tongue into my mouth in an attempt to exert her dominance but I quickly grazed the invading tongue with my teeth. I wouldn't let her catch me. She moaned into my mouth and it sounded so good in my ears, so I instinctively slipped my hands to her waist and inched them up her shirt. I seemed to have made an equally arousing moan because suddenly, the hands that were tightly clasping my shoulders in resistance suddenly yielded and reached around to the back of my neck. She gripped at my hair and pulled me closer.

It felt strange, tasting her again. All of it - being so close to her, taking in her scent (she seemed to have switched to a new brand of conditioner), hearing her call out my name with such keen desire. It only drove me to want more of her.

Something told me I shouldn't have been doing it. But I ignored it and continued to do it, anyway.

Her weight was heavily concentrated on the unopened box of medical supplies that she'd been sitting on before. She might have been crushing them, but the box hadn't collapsed, nor had it suggested being on the verge of collapse, thus I presumed whatever the contents were inside, they were durable enough for me to fuck her on.

I traced my fingers along her ribs and sides - and wanting to hear her moan again, I dug my fingernails into her skin, marking her, almost - and ran them up and around to her back, pulling on her bra before unclasping it. Her breathing was fast and only grew more unstable as I scratched her delicate skin with my nails, enjoying the feel of her.

"Callie," she panted. I roughly pulled her scrub shirt off and over her head and tossed it behind me and then I pulled the bra straps from her shoulders - evidently leaving her naked before me. The only thing that she had left on were those plain (she'd given up lace, I see), purple panties.

I pushed my lips against hers again, I just couldn't stop wanting to feel her soft lips against my own - and I supposed I must have let my guard down momentarily, because I felt her hands move from my neck to the bottom of my scrub shirt. I bit down on her bottom lip hard and she moaned loudly.

I pulled myself away from her and grabbed her hands. Cuffing her wrists together with one hand, I pulled them up above her head and pushed her back against the wall.

"No," I told her.

She only watched me - her half-closed blue eyes glistening.

"You don't touch me," I commanded.

"Callie-"

"You don't," I told her again.

"Callio-"

"Don't you dare."

She stopped speaking and watched me for a moment. I saw her gulp and close her eyes - her breathing had returned to normal. I wouldn't do anything she didn't want me to, but I would have felt really fucking stupid if she'd told me to stop.

"Okay," she said, and my lips were back on hers.

I slipped off her panties without even leaving her lips. I couldn't leave them, though the rest of her body was just as alluring. But I had, eventually - when I felt her hardened nipples rub against my clothed chest.

I remembered her breasts, I was fond of them. I was fond of everything about her - her ass, her chest, her eyes, her smile -

I didn't want to be pulled back into those memories - I only wanted to feel physically, I only chose to feel her, so I took a nipple and sucked it into my mouth and heard her moan_ Callie_ again, which only caused me to bite down on the hardened bud.

She started to tremble as my kisses grew lower - I traced the red scratches my nails had left with my tongue, and she arched her back and pushed herself closer to me.

I thought about tasting her. Only for a moment. I'd have to let go of her wrists to do that. I know she wanted it and I wanted it too, but those were things that had been compromised. I couldn't go any lower than her upper body. Not to see what fucked us both up.

I chose to continue biting and sucking at her breasts when I slipped my fingers into her. She let out a startled gasp and my grip tightened around her wrists. My arm was burning, being in that position, but I chose to ignore it because I felt her tighten against my fingers.

It hadn't been long before she came, because I found that soft, spongy spot inside of her which made her often cry out loudly in ecstasy. And she'd done it again. It always drove me to do more, so I slipped in a third finger inside of her and brought my thumb up to rub her clit.

My estranged lover raggedly gasped out my name as I thrusted stronger into her warmth. The box was shaking - whatever was inside started to rattle, but I couldn't hear it over the sounds she was making. Her whimpers and moans grew louder and I thought that maybe I should tell her to try and be quiet, but I didn't care much. She sounded amazing.

She came again, and I finally let go of her wrists. She slumped back against the wall and I pushed my forehead against hers - to look at her, if only for a moment. She had her eyes closed and she was trembling. I eased my fingers out of her hot core and she whimpered and trembled again, suddenly grabbing at my shoulders.

I reached into my pocket and wiped my hand off with a napkin and then picked up her scattered clothing and her prosthetic, which had fallen out of her reach. I placed the bundle of clothes on her lap and brought her prosthetic closer to where she could reach and then she looked up at me. Her eyes looked so bright and vulnerable and my heart was going haywire again.

I couldn't hear it.

"See you in surgery," I told her.

"Callie."

"This won't happen again," I said, and I turned to leave. I shut the door behind me before she could say anything else.

It won't happen again, I promised myself, running my fingers through my own damp hair.

But I was doubtful of that promise, since after all - I was quite notorious for broken promises.


End file.
